


Dearest of Friends

by MissArchades



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Childhood Friends, Consensual Sex, F/M, I wish people liked this pairing more, Kinky, Oral Sex, Romance, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 13:10:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6286036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissArchades/pseuds/MissArchades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holding adult feelings for a childhood friend can be a very precarious thing; doubly so when said friend is a nefarious flirt.  It doesn't stop Cynthia from loving him all the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hero Chaser

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this long before FE: Fates was announced, but I kept it off due to a lack of motivation. This was gonna be a one-shot, but now that Fates is out and Inigo Montoya/Camp Laslow is in another FE game, ready and able to not just woo other women, but have genetically superior hellspawn with them (None of the kid characters in Fates are that great, but Soleil is easily my least favorite) , I decided to make it a multi-chapter story.
> 
> The Inigo/Cynthia supports in Awakening are genuinely sweet; Inigo's a gentleman to Cynthia, and she's not a total wingnut and wants nothing but the best for him. D'awww.
> 
> In this story, Cynthia's father is Robin (named Rufure here) while Inigo's father is Chrom. My OTPs for their mothers are different (Olivia/Lon'qu and Sumia/Gaius, specifically), but this was based off of a file I did at the time, and I don't feel like changing it.

_ Plegia-Ylisse Border Pass _

 

 

 

"Justice always triumphs!"

Her joy and enthusiasm clashed with the bloodied corpse of a sage that she had just slain, his entrails sliding out of him. She even did a little twirl on her Pegasus, completely ignoring a chunk of intestines that flew off of her silver lance and landed on her lap.

The children’s behavior – Chrom’s nephew Owain and his younger daughter Morgan stood out the most– unnerved Robin, but his concern was raised to new heights at his elder daughter’s bombastic bravado. Perhaps this whole "hero of justice" act was a method of coping?

His pondering would have to wait.

Robin hesitated that moment when another sage, hidden in a nearby fortress, sprang out with a Rexcalibur tome in hand. A vicious spiral of green-hued gales spun debris and rubble into an earth-shredding whirlwind.

“Cynthia, behind you!

Had Inigo not jumped in to catch her, Cynthia would have been a bloody smear on the cliff side. Robin cringed as he saw her Pegasus slam back first into the rocks, whining in pain and violently kicking. The dust had barely begun to settle when the offending sage was killed, gutted by the end of Robin’s sword.

He glanced to the side to see that Cynthia and Inigo chose to stay behind, and probably for the better, as this little legion of bandits was stronger than he had expected. All was well and good, save for the fact that the young man and his daughter were a bit _too_ close for a pair of soldiers...

Cynthia’s leg shattered from the fall. She whimpered in pain, her breaths ragged at its bloody state. Inigo looked down at her and saw her face flushing heavily.

_"This is embarrassing...he was probably doing nothing but standing there too..."_

She let out a moan of frustration. Bandits were supposed to be the _dumbest_ villains.

"We all have our off days, Cynthia."

She looked up and was soothed by the gentle features of her dearest friend. Inigo couldn’t curb her humiliation, but his kind words and gentle smile, still lifted her spirits.

"Getting knocked around by a wind spell without realizing it isn’t just a ‘bad day,’ Inigo. I was careless.”

He sighed. "You're hardly alone there.” He gestured at a bloody laceration on top of his shoulder. "Some rogue caught me when I scaled down the pass.”

"We were hardly heroic..." Cynthia let out a weak chuckle.

"Heh, hardly is right..."

It was at that moment that Inigo realized just how _close_ they actually were. He was still clutching her in his arms, and her head was craned back, slightly spellbound by the fierce look in his eyes. His right eye in particular seemed to glimmer in the sun, courtesy of his Brand of the Exalt, the mark that served as proof of his royal lineage.

"Ehe..." Cynthia smiled. She had secretly craved being _this_ close to him. "You certainly look like a hero at _this_ angle, Inigo."

"R-really now..."

He gently let her go and looked away in embarrassment, his face rosy. "Brady's not too far away. I'll call him over."

Inigo slowly stood up and waved his good arm at Brady, who was at the foot of the pass. It took the healer all of his willpower not to trip on the slope as he scaled it, and miraculously he did not. He came to Inigo and began to chant, evoking the magic within his Mend staff. Despite the sting, the beads of soft blue light successfully sewed Inigo’s wound shut and stopped the bleeding.

“Thanks, Brady. You’re the best.”

“No prob,” said the thuggish-looking acolyte, smiling in earnest for once. “Be more careful though, ya hear?”

The two of them looked up to see that the enemy had been routed and the veteran Shepherds who fought them were preparing to hit the road again. She gasped as she felt herself being lifted – her father, Robin, had lifted her and took her to the carriage that doubled as a medical tent. Brady trotted over to her, swapping out his Mend staff for a more potent Recover staff.

As Brady prepped the staff for recovery, Cynthia’s eyes followed her father. He didn’t really inquire about her well-being when he carried her over – he just let out a disapproving grunt, avoiding eye contact. She kept her eyes on him as he stopped, discovering that Morgan had been injured as well.

She couldn’t hear a thing they were saying, but they were smiling. He even petted her head.

“This is gonna sting a little, Cindy,” said Brady, his face grimacing. “Yer lucky, that’s for sure. If Inigo didn’t save ya, you’da prolly…well, you know…”

The girl said nothing, letting Brady’s magic do its work. Instead, she found herself longingly looking at the swordsman she held dear; jealousy’s grip grabbed her for a fleeting moment when he spotted him speaking merrily to a flustered-looking Severa. Meanwhile, Robin, with Morgan in tow, had found his way to Sumia, and judging by their expressions, they were speaking of something serious. Morgan, on the other hand, looked happy and oblivious as usual.

“Don’t you worry now, Cindy. Shit like ambushes happen all the time in battle. Yer ma an’ yer pa can’t be mad at ya.” He winked at her, patting her arm in reassurance.

Brady was wrong. Sumia, as gentle as she was, had her limits when it came to blunders in battle. Robin, meanwhile, lacked those limits altogether, as did Prince Chrom. Even if they were to give her a pass for her mistake, the other kids definitely wouldn’t, because they, and the other veterans, all found her nutty. Her sister Morgan was the worst – she was callous toward the others, yet even she gave Cynthia grief from time to time.

That grief was the thanks Cynthia got for standing up for that idiot sister of hers. Amnesiac she was, it still wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair at all.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Day: Friday_

 

_Month: February_

 

_Weather: Cloudy, then sunny_

 

 

_Dear Diary,_

 

_So it seems that my intuition about the man I thought was Prince Chrom was off. It was really, really off. It was so off that I'm surprised that no one's laughed at me yet. It's what they've all been doing this whole time, so why not now?_

_Then again, maybe I should’ve figured it out when he nearly forced me to take all my clothes off in front of him…_

_We were all so young when Prince Chrom died, so they have no right to laugh at me!  Only Lucina can really remember him, since Inigo says that he was far too little to remember him when his death happened. They have a whole lineage that they’re reminded of every day, and Chrom's is among the most respected. Easy to see why only they can remember him._

_The same can't be said of my own mom, and dad is -_

 

The words Cynthia used to describe her father were scribbled over.

 

_Most of my memories of Mom are still pretty clear. She was doting and loving and always made the best pies…except for that nasty elderberry pie that always made me sick to my stomach. Lucina told me that she tried to win Chrom over with an elderberry pie. Chrom has no taste! That pie is gross! I had no idea that Mom had a fondness for Chrom either. There she was, seemingly in love, ultimately rejected...but she fought on, like a true Pegasus Knight would. I don’t care if she’s Inigo’s mom and the Queen of Ylisse, Olivia’s a big fat weenie compared to my mom._

_Dad's almost like a stranger. I can sort of remember him – I can see him – but vaguely._

_From what I can recall, he was distant. I don’t remember what he did in my time, but here he's the tactician of the Shepherds. I asked him about how he was able to take out that fake Chrom's legion of bandits. It mostly involved hiding in the trees and using the debris that was lying around for cover. They then split into a pincer-shaped formation and came in at once to intimidate the sellswords that the fake was trying to persuade. The pincer part sounded like fun, so I asked him if they cried out before rushing in. I can imagine all of the Pegasus Knights and the Wyvern Riders swooping in at once, maybe in a blaze of fire._

_He gave me this weird look. His brows were all furrowed. He then dismissed himself._

_I wonder if dad's gonna ridicule me too._

 

_The way he talks is as if -_

 

_\- will he just ignore me?_

 

The passage between "if" and "will" was also crossed out.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

_Day: Saturday_

 

_Month: April_

 

_Weather: Sunny_

 

_Dear Diary,_

 

_It's been a strange day._

_There were no bandits skulking about or civil battles going on today, so when we got off at the pier in West Ferox, Dad opted to take our caravan through the Longfort and head south to Ylisstol from there. Plegia was still a no-no because of some diplomacy problem that Lucina vaguely mentioned some time ago. Along the way, Chrom learned of a rumor of some artifact called Naga's Tear, so we took a detour at some ruins that were north of the port._

_Inside was Morgan. Not only was she there, with her Pegasus Rider uniform on and riding some Pegasus I hadn't seen before, but she also had amnesia. My own little sister doesn't remember a thing about Mom or me, but for some reason, she remembers Dad just fine. She says that she wants to be a tactician like him. I, on the other hand clearly remember her wanting to be a Dark Flier, riding on one of those majestic (and rare!) black Pegasi._

_In fact, one day, when she was five years old, she was playing chess with Dad. She got so frustrated that she kicked the table over and threw the entire set at him. The lessons stopped for a long time, that’s for sure._

_That's one clear memory I have of Dad, and he's angry in it._

_Morgan read far better than most for her age and was really good with numbers, but there are many other children like that. Laurent is one of them, and he uses those gifts of his far better than she does – even if he can be a meanie._

_I remember that she went crying to Mom and begged her to have her take the test to become a Pegasus Knight. According to Mom, there are four ranks that a potential knight must climb through, starting with the probationary flier level. Passing a series of tests ranks her up to a Pegasus Rider, and then a Pegasus Knight, which allows for her to formally enroll in Ylisse’s Pegasus Knight Platoon. Commanding knights can then become Falcon Knights, or if they have a talent for magic and there’s a black Pegasus around, a Dark Flier._

_I think she barely made it to Pegasus Rider when her training stopped and she wanted to be a tactician again. It probably something to do with how evilly my flying instructor looked at her when I began my own training. She probably pulled some stupid prank. She did tend to get bored easily._

_Seeing her now was like when I saw Dad again: I'm meeting a stranger. A stranger who doesn't seem very disturbed that most of her memories are gone. My baby sister might as well have come from some twisted Outrealm._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

_Day: Tuesday_

 

_Month: May_

 

_Weather: Thunderstorms all day long_

 

_Dear Diary,_

 

_Chrom is making preparations to meet with the king of Plegia. There’s a thunderstorm outside, so today is a rest day for the Shepherds._

_It seemed like a fun day to bond. Nah wasn't my favorite person in the world, but bonds bound us together like nails to a cabin, so I told her this cool new scenario that I had: I could ride her like how Gerome rides Minerva. And then we clash! But Nah being Nah, she refused. She said something about my head being in my rear. I really -_

_She's not as mature as she thinks she is!_

Again, a section was crossed out. This time, it was a slew of slurs about Cynthia's half-human, half-dragon companion.

_I opted to practice my war cries alone. I am the daughter of a great Pegasus Knight, after all!_

_Severa, also the daughter of a Pegasus Knight, just had to come in and insult me. She's so icy. There's a reason everyone hates talking to you. You're pitiable. You’re pathetic. You're the poor, poor daughter of the oh-so-tortured genius of the Shepherds, forever living in her shadow, and you reeeeally like letting everyone know it, don't you? Why, we're practically the same coin. Character foils, maybe!_

_Besides, her father doted on her in our time when he was alive. He’s doing it more than ever now. How dare she be so spoiled! There's only so much that little miss spoiled ice queen has a say in._

_And after she left, I found Morgan unconscious on the ground. She told me that she was trying to jolt her memories awake by hitting her head on the wall. I swear, she's -_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

"Cynthia?"

It took all of two seconds for Cynthia to slam her diary shut when Laurent came inside. As she hid it, Laurent, gingerly propped up a newly forged silver lance and a Shockstick on the weapon rack near her cot.

"Er...are we heading out for anything?" Cynthia longingly gazed at the two lances. The Shockstick in particular was a rare lance fused with thunder magic, and such a lance could give her the opportunity to test her latent magical potential. It was a shame that they were so rare - three families of esteemed blacksmiths made the Shockstick, the Levin Sword, and the Bolt Axe, and they could not be bought from regular merchants.

"The roads are flooded because of this storm," Laurent spoke, adjusting his glasses. "We're definitely not heading out for the next few days or so, but Robin requested me to purchase new supplies. I have procured these for you."

Cynthia beamed. "And you found a Shockstick!?"

"Yes, but - Cynthia!"

She should have known better, but Cynthia couldn't help but grab the magical lance and admire its sheer presence. The pole was forged with fine silver, and she could see a series of magical glyphs on the side. Such glyphs, with their odd, curved script, were often seen when magical spells were cast – the words were what drew power into weapons and tomes. The blade itself was shaped like a lightning bolt, and bits of steel were cast on the edges. To Cynthia, the weapon was the perfect mix of elegant and brute, truly fit for a magic knight.

With a flourish, she spun forward and punched the air, lance still in hand. "Fear me, scions of evil! Gaze upon my magics, ye wicked, and despair!"

Laurent hid a smile as she posed. That said, the beginnings of a headache spiked in his head. She faced him and grinned.

"That could surly throw a foe for a loop, Laurent!"

"If said foe had the attention span of a cockroach, perhaps..." Laurent sighed.

"Excuse me?"

"Erm…Cynthia, I advise you be careful with that Shockstick. It's quite fragile. According to the merchant, without proper care, it will probably break after casting its magic...hm, twenty times or so."

"Aww, really?" Cynthia's face fell. "Darn...well, if you say so -"

***clang***

It was almost comical at how easily Cynthia fell. As she crossed her left foot forward, she tripped over the lance.

Cynthia hit onto the floor, hard. She cried out in pain at the feeling of the hard marble floor bruising her legs. Before Laurent could react, a large bolt of lightning shot out from the stick, frying the edge of his robe. He cried out in frustration, using his hat to pat down the flames that emerged near his feet.

She made a feeble attempt to help him, apologizing over and over. She cringed at hearing him hiss in anger. The flames on his robes died out, but Laurent was no less upset.

"...As uplifting as your enthusiasm can be..." Laurent sighed, still frazzled. "It can, in all honesty, be _juvenile_."

"Laurent..." Cynthia's face fell, damn near ready to cry.

He mentally cursed himself, having gone through this before when she fell on him by accident. "Perhaps juvenile was the incorrect word. I understand that it was an accident, and I have observed how you have better restrained yourself, but please, do be more careful around that Shockstick." He gathered himself and stood. "I also assure you that I won't speak to your father and the others about this incident."

Those words were empty, for very little escaped Robin's eyes in regards to who did what. Almost every incident that had happened involving her bought harsh words of judgment from him. It had gotten to the point that Cynthia did not practice super moves during regulated training sessions under Chrom, Frederick, and her father, saving them for later hours.

It was another drop in her little bucket of loathing that no one assumed had existed. An older drop originated during yesterday's training session: Morgan wound up wasting three "Arc-" level tomes doing some odd martial arts training with Nah. Robin laughed and doted on her, praising her efforts.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

The thunderstorms had ended that night. Spring had entered its prime, with the beauty of Ylisse's flora and trees lovelier than ever. When the rest of her fellow children went to bed, Cynthia opted for a late-night walk, partially because she wanted to feed her Pegasus, partially because she needed to be alone with her thoughts.

When the Shepherds were due for missions near Ylisstol, the Shepherds' Garrison was their usual resting place. As their next mission was a diplomatic one and no urgency was to be had, they slept in the palace dormitories instead. For the first time in forever, the Shepherds could rest in the lap of luxury and excess. For the children from the future, such a night was a first for most of them.

Behind the palace were the stables for the horses and Pegasi, with some improvised space made for Cherche and Gerome's wyverns and a wayward griffon that they found during the Valmese War. Verdant fields of grass for grazing stretched for acres, with a fresh garden supplying both food for the palace and the steeds. Cynthia, donned in a brown cotton jumper with a small corset over a white shirt with detached sleeves, scanned the stables and found her Pegasus. She was the very same Pegasus that her mother had the honor of riding on, and her name was Est. Like Gerome’s wyvern Minerva, Est shared her name with a famous warrior from the era of Akaneia. Though fondly remembered as one of the legendary Whitewings, Est was equally as infamous for her prone to kidnappings and was the hated player of a love triangle that was disputed by historians to this day. Despite all this, Est was a strong Pegasus, having endured more horrors than most.

When Est had returned to Cynthia the day Sumia died, her condition was terrible, mane all tangled and body charred. She did not even notice how much she neglected her until she came to the modern era and Sumia pointed it out to her. Since then, Cynthia had tried her best to lift the weary Pegasus' spirits.

Cynthia fetched a large bucket of water from a nearby well for Est to drink. She opened her gate and gestured her out, brushing her mane as she drank. Normally she would give Est a pep talk, but she felt too somber tonight to do so.

_"Do I even belong here...?"_

That question kept looping around more and more in her head. Did a juvenile hero of justice belong with hardened soldiers after all?

_"I probably don’t. The others hate me. Doesn’t matter what I’ve done in the future…when I'm not fighting, they...."_

Est whinnied into her ear.

"Hehe...sorry, Est. Gee, your coat's a little matted..." Even as she brushed, Est kept gesturing to her master's left. Curious, Cynthia looked that way and jumped when she heard a loud _whumph._

"Oww..."

A curious Cynthia gestured Est to stay put and ran over to the source of the noise. To her surprise and hidden delight, Inigo was sitting on his rear, letting out kitten-like whimpers in pain.

"Inigo!"

The young man looked up and cringed. His embarrassed flush went unseen by the Pegasus Knight as she happily sat by him.

"What's with the face? Was it you that fell over just now?" She squatted and faced him, face aglow with curiosity.

Inigo made a squeaking sound. Upon gazing at his friend, he couldn't tell if he was flushing from embarrassment or from her looks. If he didn't know her at all, he would have assumed that she was some pretty milkmaid or a farmer's daughter passing by. The corseted jumper certainly bought out certain _assets_ that often went unnoticed on a daily basis, courtesy of her armor. There was also something attractive, alluring even, about how her pinkish-colored hair was tied in a loose ponytail, leaving a few stray curls by her neck. It was far womanlier looking than her childish pigtails.

"...Inigo? Hey, I'm talking here!" She waved her hand in front of his face. He snapped out of his reverie.

"...Cynthia?" He said stupidly.

"Yep! It's me! Now tell me where it hurts. There's a first aid kit in one of the stables, you know." She grinned, playfully punching his leg. He recoiled.

"Owowowow...that's where it hurts...and my rump. Especially my rump." The crease between his brows was pronounced. "This is so humiliating..."

He sighed in defeat. While a sprain in the leg and a bruised bottom were hindrances, it could have been worse - what if, gods forbid, she had seen him actually dancing?

But judging by her curious eyes, she did not – and how big they seemed! They were as lovely and as round as the moon, as earthy in their color as a beautiful clay pot. If there were a moment back then when Cynthia looked as lovely as she did now, he did not recall it…  

He shook his head.

_“Am I getting all weak in the knees because she’s wearing such a charming outfit…? What’s wrong with me?”_

He eased his stare, gauging her reaction: a giggle and a smile. His cheeks felt warm – curious, as he felt some of that same warmth the last time they spoke to one another. She was all smiles that day too, bringing much-needed cheer to his horrid week.

She’d indulge his love of the ladies, so why not indulge her? He smirked.

"I…actually wouldn't mind treatment right now, especially from you." He gave her a wink.

Cynthia was sure that the warmth that sputtered in her chest wasn't from the fire that burned nearby. She ran off without a word, her face searing with heat.

Sure, Inigo was always a wonderful sight for sore eyes, but tonight that "wonderful" sight veered into a far more erotic one: he wore naught but loose-fitting pantaloons and a low-hanging white shirt that left his chest and his abdomen mostly exposed for the world to see. He was taut in those areas, with narrow but muscular hips and strong arms – he lacked Owain and Gerome’s bulk, yet he was no weaker for it, and it gave him a graceful appearance. His legs were his strongest parts, finely trained from years and years of discipline and careful footwork.

It was also no secret to Cynthia that Inigo was a dancer like his mother was, but he took great pains to perform alone. A mere mentioning of it sent Inigo running for the hills in mortification. It was also a part of the mass of irony that he was; he made mentions of it during his philandering adventures, but ninety-nine percent of those ended in epic, humiliating, and outright comical failure.

It was also saddening to Cynthia that she was the only one who put up with that philandering, lending him her ear despite the anger she'd always feel. After all, he too was aware that the other kids tended to push her around for being so strange, and they'd also dump on him for being so flirtatious. The rotten Nah made a threat to _eat_ the poor guy at one point. As she found the kit, she huffed out a few times in anger.

"We like artsy things, we like helping people who get into trouble, we're both sociable people...I guess I'm not pretty enough?" She frowned as she began her walk back. "Or..."

She grasped her plump breasts. The corset made them perky and plush, giving them a roundness often seen by noblewomen in fancy dress. "...I gotta make him look at _these_ to get his attention?"

She took the strings and tightened them a little, making her breasts pop up more. With a determined look on her face, she began running back to her childhood crush.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Inigo idly played with one of the wildflowers he had plucked. As time passed, he mulled over some recent events, one such event being that he overheard Robin the tactician giving Cynthia an earful about accidentally triggering a Shockstick. It was mere chance that he and Cynthia were out here meeting one another tonight, but after speaking to her not long ago – that time when he felt a strange sense of longing and a peculiar warmth in his chest – he felt the need to see her again.

_"I mean, why do you feel a need to flirt so much? Would it kill you not to have a throng of girls screaming and pining for you?"_

_"Hmm...it's not a logical thing that draws me to the ladies. It's more like...instinct."_

The instinct being, after some thinking and a little bit of snarky wisdom from Laurent, perpetual frustration combined with the fact that his own mother likely gave him the wrong life advice for dealing with his inherent shyness. Aside from said snark, something else she said stood out to him:

_"Well, I can't speak for other girls, Inigo, but I find you pretty entertaining. You've been a good friend since we were young, and I like you a lot. Plus, I know you've got a good heart despite all the...leering. So that's gotta count for something!"_

A shoddy track record with girls, and she still treated him well. Immense mistreatment of Owain and Brady, and she held no ill will against him for it. Attempted (key word) to flirt with Severa, got burned, and she had nothing but kind words for him, although it helped that Severa was also horrible to her.

Something in particular she had said looped in his head:

_"You've been a good friend since we were young, and...I like you a lot..."_

He sighed, frustrated at the confusion that dwelled within him.

"I must be losing my mind..." He sighed. He threw aside the wildflower in frustration and scratched his neck. Just _what_ was that strange feeling that lingered when she was in his presence?

"How long have we known each other again? For crying out loud, I'm..."

"Inigo!"

He twisted his neck toward Cynthia's direction, rigid as a statue at the sight of her breasts. When and how did they get plumper? Why did they look like they'd pop out of that corset if she so much as raised her arms? Why was he thinking about the breasts of a girl he'd known since they were no older than three years of age?

 _"...What did I send her away for again?"_ He thought to himself, completely, and perversely, mesmerized. What a hell of a moment to think with one's "little head!"

"I got the first aid kit! Get your leg out and lemme fix it!"

Cynthia grinned, grabbing his legs and yanking the loose pantaloons from underneath him. Exposed for her to see, along with Inigo's tears of pain and fire-red face, was a pair of short, white breeches, soft and silken (a luxury granted to him as Prince Chrom's son). Though they were airy and loose, that one very, _very_ particular area of Inigo's, one that she had discovered in books (starting with anatomical books from her father, leading up to all of those heroic sagas and romantic rags that she adored, re-reading all the naughtiest parts _over and over again_...), was _quite_ visible; the underwear shaped it _nicely_. Her cheeks were pink, not taking her eyes off it as she took out a glass jar of Arnica flower oil from the kit.

"C-C-Cynthia, why the hell did you do that!?" He winced as his pulled muscles stretched out further. As he looked up at her, his embarrassment boiled over like a steaming kettle, quite aware at what body part of his she was staring at! "And just _where do you think you're looking!?_ Stop that!"

She looked at him, cheeks still flushed. "I'm not looking at anything, Inigo." She took a small spoon and measured the oil out. "Now point to the part of your leg that hurts."

"I-It's...it hurts on my...my calf..." He was far too flustered to say it without stammering. "It hurts right - ack!"

She took her small hands and gingerly rubbed them all over his muscular calf, letting the oil sink in. His skin was surprisingly soft to the touch - shocking, given the sheer hell they had gone through in the future. Despite being a prince, luxuries like oils were a sort-lived indulgence for him, and it was the same for Cynthia, as Sumia was the daughter of an Earl. She was overjoyed to experience something like this again, for the feeling of oil slipping all over skin was a fun, sensual experience.

In her most heated dreams, she'd feel skin entwined with skin, aromatic with a mixture of flowers and sweat...

"Huh." She could feel the injured muscle, stretched thin. "So that's where you pulled it..." She took more oil and dabbed it on, gently massaging it in with her left hand, while her right slithered upward, ever so slowly...

Inigo would turn into a stewed tomato if he could blush any harder. And speaking of "hardness..."

_"No no no no no no no no nooooo..."_

He nearly choked as he felt his member go erect from her massage. His mind was half-sunk into the gutter, because if it weren't, he would have made her stop oh-so-graciously rubbing her right hand on his thigh. The more she rubbed, the more she bent over, letting his eye catch her pretty, plump cleavage. He’d lose himself at this rate, his panting becoming more audible.

The sixth time she rubbed him, she coyly looked up at him, her eyes glimmering mischievously.

 _"She's doing this on purpose, isn't she!?"_ He thought to himself, snapping out of his reverie. He grabbed her right hand and forced it off of him, giving her a hard glare.

"Cynthia, stop!" He was still blushing heavily. "You're making me uncomfortable!"

She sighed, ashamed. Cynthia hung her head low as she grabbed some stiff pads and bandage wraps to keep his leg. "Sorry..."

Inigo shook his head, still flustered. "Look, I know this is coming from the world's lousiest philanderer, but what you did was...was…”

Rapidly, he placed his left arm and awkwardly tried to hide his erection.

"I... I mean, I wouldn't even think of doing that to a girl, or...or..." He glanced at her, seeing tears well up in her eyes.

"Oh, Cynthia, please don't cry, I didn't mean to shout like that..." He waved his free hand at her, panicking.

"No," She sighed, wiping her tears. "I shouldn't have done that. I was being a creep! I should be apologizing, Inigo." Embarrassment washed over her like an ocean wave. "...Did I at least ease the pain in your leg?"

"Well..." He carefully shifted his oil-covered leg. The muscle was still weak, but the effect of the oil had dulled the pain. "You did! It feels better already, but - ooh..."

"What is it?" She gingerly asked as she placed the stiff cotton pad on his leg. The sheer amount of embarrassment from him was so thick that even she could feel it.

"It's...it's my...arse..." He whimpered in shame. “I can’t believe it still hurts…”

If he did not stop her earlier, Cynthia would've turned to a viler act: taking down his breeches and feasting her not-so-innocent eyes on his naked arse. A flush of heat rippled through her legs at the thought, but if she were to do so, she'd be no better than the average tavern-dweller.

"Do you know how to apply Arnica oil, Inigo?"

"I do..."

"Well, lemme get this cast on you, and then you can put the oil on behind that tree over there. Sound good?"

"Yep."

Like a foal, Inigo made a feeble attempt to stand, his legs wobbling visibly. Cynthia tried to lift him up, but his pain was too great. He felt the muscles pull apart.

"Gah!"

The pain nearly made him snap. Inigo dragged Cynthia with him in a tumble, landing into an enclosed, grassy space below them. They rolled like bulky logs, landing at the bottom with a soft thud. Cynthia cried out in pain as she felt her head smack the ground.

"Owwwie…Inigo-"

Cynthia squeaked.

A groaning Inigo was in quite the compromising position on top of her, his right hand clutching her shoulder and his left arm sprawled parallel to her right. Every plane of his body - and indeed, that particular lump she felt confirmed that his pants were still off - pressed itself onto her, letting off a gentle heat that made her jittery inside. She didn't budge.

For quite some time, she wanted him to play the hero instead, and she the princess, sweeping her off of her feet. To her shame, the thought aroused her.

It was the last thought she had at that moment, for unconsciousness racked her brains. She blacked out, head dropping back.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

"Owowowowww...Cynthia, are you...all..."

Inigo froze on the spot at the sight below him. Because she had tightened her corset, the cloth covering Cynthia's chest had tugged down. During the tumble, a pair of delicate-looking breasts had popped out, exposing themselves for him to see. Not the biggest he had seen, but they were rounded and full, topped by a pair of delicate, circular pink nipples. The most primitive recesses of his mind forced him to fixate on them. Gods, but she looked like something out of a painting: mussed hair; a slender and exposed neck that turned away from him, which tapered to the collarbone; all of that accentuating the nude breasts that he was staring at.

He shuddered. He wanted to give in to his perversions. He wanted to suckle them.

"Haah...hooh..."

Inigo took several deep breaths, willing himself to calm down, to force out the oddball mixture of pain from the fall and sexual arousal that racked his body. Alas, his arse was in great pain. He bruised it more, and the pain was too acute for him to move.

"Shit, it really hurts. This is not good..." Inigo muttered under his breath, feeling his body heat up. "This is _not good at all..._ lord, this is all sorts of embarrassing that I don't think I've ever felt before...oh, Gods above...shit, shit, shitshitshitshiiiiiit..."

There was only one solution to quell his growing erection: think of Owain in a Dark Mage's garb. It was foolproof!

Inigo snickered at the sight of Owain in all of that ridiculous sheer material, with his genitals barely being covered by a single cloth. Owain was so absurd that he'd likely try posing and playing pretend in a garb so obscene that aprostitute looked like a nun in comparison. Why, he'd probably stumble during one of his tirades and expose his cock. _That_ would be hilarious!

He'd expose his cock.

Expose...

His hand accidentally brushed her left breast. It silently shook.

Proving how weak in the knees he was in regards to women, he hardened in under a second.

_"Dammit!"_

"Mnh..."

Cynthia let out a quiet moan, slowly awakening. Inigo balked.

"No!"

"Ini...go...?"

The air struck them with tension, begging to be cut. Even though she was groggy, Cynthia gazed at Inigo with half-lidded eyes, with glimmering lust flickering in them. There was nary an ounce of embarrassment on her face - in fact, she seemed to be _quite_ pleased with this situation. Inigo's head, needless to say, promptly exploded.

"Inigo...I..."

The boy buried his face below her breasts. "I'm not looking! I'm totally not!" He shouted through muffles. "I'm not a pervert, Cynthia! I'm not! Oh, lord, the embarrassment is eating me from within..." His face was on fire.

"Inigo!" As gingerly as she could with the amount of frustration she had, Cynthia shoved Inigo upright, ignoring his sharp cries of pain. "Stop apologizing, seriously!" She looked down with a frown, covering her breasts with her left arm. “Good grief…”

Even through the unbearable pain, he smiled back at her. "B-But, I..." He still felt his erection throbbing. "This is shameful. I mean, you're my..."

"Um…will you hear me out!?"

He jumped at the intensity of her voice. Her hazel eyes locked onto his wooden browns. Now was not the time to back down. She inhaled, completely ignoring the fact that her breasts were exposed.

_"I like you, Inigo. I really do...and the past few weeks have been the absolute worst. Even if the others may not like me, even if I..."_

No use stalling.

"I-I've been thinking...I, I came out here alone tonight, and...and..." Dammit! She stuttered, taking another breath. "Inigo, will you listen to what I have to say? It's important to me!"

"Yes, of course..."

Even at the absurdity of where they were now, she had to say her piece. "Remember that battle at the border pass? The one where I injured my leg and Est nearly died?" Inigo nodded his head. "Ever since that day, it's been one incident after another. I break things. I fall over rocks like an idiot. I try, _try_ to be positive, I try to be a good Pegasus Knight because I want to...I _believe_ I can, Inigo, and all the Shepherds..."

The tears came to her at last. Sobs racked her body.

"All the Shepherds, they hate me, Inigo! Nah, and Severa, and my father, and Chrom, they all hate me, they think I'm worthless, they think I'm completely useless!" She thrashed her right arm, sobbing. "A-All that dad does is praise Morgan, e-even when s-s-she breaks things, o-or bullies Yarne - I swear, she kept p-pulling his ears! She does stupid, stupid _shit_ all the time! She's so _spoiled_ and _stupid,_ smacking her head on the w-wall! But mom and dad love her, and dad thinks I'm nothing!"

Cynthia wept.

"I don't belong here at all! What the hell is wrong with me!?" She sniffled. "Heroes of justice are a...ah...they're all _b-b-bullshit!_ I-I-I'm no good to anyone...aaah, I even hurt you more...I'm so s-stupid...stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, _stupid!"_

The tipping point had come. She collapsed on the ground, letting the anguish run through her. "Wh...why do I even bother..."

Inigo felt his arousal subside, letting sympathy take its place.

_"Cynthia...I...I don't know what to say..."_

He, to the best of his ability, slid over to her, gently tapping her shoulder. She couldn't find it in herself to look at him, shame brimming out of her body. Instead, he said nothing and gently held her, letting her tears fall onto his shirt. Subconsciously, she clung to him.

He became terribly sad, as the one girl from childhood who always believed in him was suffering so.

"Have you truly been feeling so sad for that long, Cynthia?" He tenderly asked her.

"Y-Yes...ah-hah..."

"Oh, Cynthia...you shouldn't doubt yourself like that..."

"Why not…?”

His head craned into her shoulder, his lips near her ear: "We all were able to survive Grima's global onslaught, weren't we? Wasn't that thought to have been impossible in and of itself?"

She sighed with a choke. Though it was true, she still felt to have been one of the weaker links back then. Even before taking up the Pegasus, she was easily the weakest among all of them.

"We argued and suffered, but we still fought. And we lived. We lived, we traveled back in time to set things right, and we've gotten to experience a time of peace...well, an unstable peace, but a peace nonetheless. And here's something..." His lips slid closer to her lobe, making her shudder. "...Among the survivors, Miss Hero of Justice, are a philanderer, a story-teller, a cowardly Taguel, a frightened archer, an elusive Wyvern Rider, a childish dragon, an obsessive knight, a money-wasting mercenary, a yellow-bellied priest, a peculiar mage, my humorless elder sister, and your amnesiac little sister. We're all as offbeat as they come, yet here we are."

It was true. The veil of doubt still lingered within Cynthia, but what Inigo said next had made it lift.

"Cynthia...do you know how sad and alone I...we felt, when we all came here? No, not just now, but even back then...your love of 'justice,' and 'heroism,' and saving the day, all of that...maybe, yes, even I thought it was a bit immature, at least in the beginning." He held her further into his arms. "But you know? Gerome is so dour, and Severa is mean, and Nah is so condescending...seeing you wanting to be a paragon of justice, it's like me and my dancing, you know? It makes people happy. I want to make people happy. And I know you take yourself seriously, but do you know that your energy keeps our morale high? It gives the army something to smile about...and I can tell you, you've done a far better job at that than I have."

"Inigo..."

She clung to him more, shuddering as his breath poured into her ear. "Inigo...I..."

"There's no need to say anything..."

He blushed as he embraced her more. _"I...I hope I'm not foolish for thinking that she...sh-!?"_

Before he could react, the girl in his arms cupped his head with both hands. Tenderly, she kissed his right cheek.

_"She...I think she answered my question for me..."_

He found himself being embraced by her - it was a tender moment, but it was also offset by the fact that he found his chin buried in her cleavage.

"I'm sorry for acting like this Inigo," Cynthia said softly, her eyes flickering with relief. "But we're going to be busy for the next few days, and...and I, well...I've always liked you Inigo." The desire she felt for him that initially died out was blossoming again.

“I’ve wanted to talk to you again for a while. Inigo…even if you don't like me back, I like _you_ a lot...a _lot..."_

Inigo inhaled, reveling in a gentle scent that was bathed with roses and jasmine and lilacs.  His everything - especially his heart - was in a tizzy, with his pounding heart growing louder by the second

"A-And..." She felt her face light on fire. "I'd always get _so_ upset when you hit on other girls...it's petty, I know, but even when you talk to our friends, like Kjelle or Noire, or...but," she sighed, "I figured me being mad would be better than you being sad, you know what I mean? You being all cheerful kept the others in high spirits and all...but still..."

"Gods, when you put it that way, I feel like a big fat fool!" Inigo lifted his head up and grabbed her - a thrush of excitement coursed through her body. "And now that we're here like this, I, I wish I had seen it sooner..."

Hope sprang anew and eternally for the girl. "…It makes me happy that you said that. But..."

She tilted her head up, finding herself boring right into his gaze. He looked down at her, flush, trembling with an excitement that he couldn't obtain from any old dallying with any random girl.

"...It wouldn't be fair to rope you in if you at least didn't like me as a friend," said Cynthia shyly. It was only fair. "So..."

"So...what?" Inigo asked coyly, his joy beginning to bloom. "It is I who is being unfair. After all, looking back," he said, taking a breath. "We're the ones who had to stick together, trying to make everybody happy. I can't believe I never considered the things we've done together, the times we've had...see? Fortune's fool. But now, maybe not so much..."

"Inigo..."

"In truth," he sighed, growing shy.  "I've felt _drawn_ to you.  Maybe I always have.  Even more than the other girls, I've always wanted to help you stay happy.  You among all of us have been striving the most for a happier future, and I've caught wind of the dreams you're pursuing...Even so, I didn't realize that I had such an impact on you all this time, Cynthia."  He was blushing in earnest now, his face neutral.  "...And I can safely say that you're making one hell of an impact on me now."

"I am?"

"Yes, yes you are."  He leaned in, gently smiling at her.  "I like you a lot.  And you aren't roping me in.  I mean it."

"You...In, Inigo, I..."

All that could be heard were the crickets and the trees as Cynthia and Inigo smiled at one another, faces all aglow. Slowly, gently, they tilted their heads and leaned in - he hesitated for the slightest of moments. Even though all was silent, and he was injured and she obscene in her exposed chest, the sheer level of how _right_ it all felt was good enough for Cynthia. His umber eyes took her breath away as she felt his lips capture hers.

It took their breaths away, drawing themselves closer and drowning in the heat of their flesh. Taking a cue from the books, Cynthia's delicate tongue carefully slid its way into Inigo's mouth, and he hissed. The burn of emotions that rippled through them was like embers, flickering and gentle, but hot all the same. She leaned in and pressed herself onto his chest, her arms clutching at his back.

Inigo gasped, feeling his mind turn into putty. For but the merest of moments, he could have died and he would've been the happiest man on earth.

A tiny sliver of saliva could be felt on Cynthia's lips as they broke apart. Nary a word had to be said. A flurry of flames rose from the embers, settling in their lower regions.

"...I think," Cynthia hitched, her eyes all aglow, "that you're gonna get lucky tonight, Inigo. Right here. Right now."

Inigo's throat clenched. He shook to the core. As if Naga herself blessed him, he groaned and did his damnedest to ignore the searing pain in his ass. He stood and ferociously claimed the girl, mesmerized by her nude breasts, and hauled both himself and her to a nearby stable, kissing her hard and giving the left breast a light grope - a mere tease of things to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDITED AS OF 3/30/15 because wow, people like this! Plus I wanted to edit it anyway, some parts of it felt off.


	2. Flower Picker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, take this.
> 
> Just
> 
> TAKE THIS.
> 
> I'm so proud and embarrassed at this at the same time. I can taste the cheese leaking off of this.
> 
> Hope it's good enough for everyone!

"Ah!"

Cynthia squealed and flung with delight as she was unceremoniously tossed into a large pile of hay. Inigo slammed the stable door shut and furiously bolted it, already huffing from his arousal. Half from pain and half from lust, he collapsed on top of her and ferociously kissed her, giving her lip a bite. He wasted no time, grasping her inner thigh with featherweight strokes.

"H-Hey," she gasped. "S-Slow, slow down please..."

"Don't worry love," he huffed, his lips grazing her ear. She felt her spine tingle, climaxing with a tiny puncture of wetness from below. "I'm a gentleman who's true to my word..."

The featherweight strokes came to a grinding halt. Instead the hand lingered back, more strong and forceful, kneading and stroking at the calf. Fingers traced the sharp, hilly curve that formed that calf, with the boy feeling a notion of surprise that it was as silky as it was. Nary a hair was to be found as he smiled and prodded the leg. He forced her neck to turn, giving him full access to its skin, and her bitten left ear. She sighed, feeling wetness and teeth on the neck, leaving marks like roses on its surface.

Each little nibble made her arousal - steadily growing even _more_ obvious by the increasing wetness that gathered on the lips of her sex - flicker like flames. As the tongue boldly slid down the neck, its hard tip leaving a thin streak of saliva behind on reddish love-bites, she could feel his hand - with hesitation - reach for one of her haplessly exposed breasts.

"Ah..."

Every little touch plucked her arousal, all parts of the body ready to blossom like tiny lilies of the valley. She felt his body quiver and rumble at the sight of her approving smile; she indulged in a fantasy of hers and, with trembling hands, played with her breasts. Her nipples had become terribly sensitive, all pert; her breasts sinfully jiggled. She smiled, feeling as if she were some lowly tavern wench giving a man some much-needed pleasure. Better yet, and more likely, she felt like a hapless milkmaid being accosted by a perverted farm hand.

She was living some of those horribly dirty fantasies of hers, here and now, and she was _loving_ it. All the more, because she loved _him._

"Oh my..." Inigo let out a small choke at the display. "You're, you're driving me - "

She took his hand and forcefully placed it on her left breast, and he let out a shuddered breath he didn't know he was holding. Carefully, he began to stroke the swollen nipple, finding himself drowning in his base inhibitions at its softness. Cynthia squirmed and let out quiet, quick moans, and she felt her body tingle as his other hand, large and strong from years of using the sword, began to grope her other breast.

"You know," said Inigo, pulling himself up and facing Cynthia directly, "your average maiden would be scared or reluctant during her first time. And I can only imagine the sheer hell that would be forced upon me if I ever tried something like this. But you..."

Cynthia let out a tiny moan as she felt his hands massage her breasts, the strokes itching with excitement. "...Is, is it wrong for a girl to have - ahh, fantasies like this? Or, or..." She shook as the nipples were caressed, and she spread her legs more in yearning. "...I've wanted to indulge in them with you f-for s-some time now - ah!"

His knee brushed up against her sex - soft skin meeting with skin, and Inigo's eyes went wide at its wetness.

He couldn't lie to himself - he hadn't a thought as to how to proceed with all of this. Like Cynthia, the books and idle gossip were all he had to go on. His flirtatious bravado was hollow. But if it were all awash with wetness and she moaning and arched, lips and breasts swollen and puffy with tenderness, surely he must have been doing _something_ right, right?

Her hands gestured at the massive, modest brown skirt that had been tousled and wrinkled. She shuddered as he slowly lifted it up, exposing to him her nether-lips in full. He hadn't fully touched it, and yet a wet spot had grown on the skirt, staining it in her fit of excitement.

She shuddered as the cool air brushed against her vulva. Exposure such as this, laying on a bed full of hay in a gentle embrace, had aroused her quite well enough.

Inigo tentatively took a finger and slid it across the dark, curling hair that had graced her sex. He gently tugged at it as he dipped his head down to her breasts. Letting that perverse yearning take over at last, he began to suckle on her left breast; the skin was silk, soft and lightly scented with berries and jasmine.

"Ah," Cynthia gasped slightly, feeling her toes curl. She nearly cried out, his fingers were _so_ close to her most sacred body part. "You're teasing me...ah..."

In turn, he took the tugging finger and gently lowered it down across the lips below - she couldn't see it, but he was grinning like an idiot. He slid the finger from the bottom, steadily, and moved it upward and down again, gently creating circles within her.

"Mmnh..."

His thumb absently found her clitoris, engorged and swollen. He brushed it lightly, unsure, yet it set her off all the same. She arched up and yelped, reeling in ecstasy as his thumb circled the nub more and more. She shamelessly opened her legs to let his fingers gain entry to her inner core, hips bucking at his finger thrusting.

"M-More..."

"L-Like this...?" He asked hesitantly, pumping his fingers more quickly. She sighed, feeling a wave of pleasure crash down on her. His erection had made his undergarments too tight to handle, yet he still felt flush with embarrassment at the thought of removing them.

"Y-Yes...!"

His fingers curled into a knot, rubbing at that ribbed layer of flesh within her. Whenever she touched herself there, she'd always see stars.

"Ahh!"

His larger, more masculine fingers made her see fireworks. It burst all at once, and she bit her arm to prevent potential passerbys from hearing her cry out in pleasure.

She felt her body tingle and settle as he tugged at the nipples of her breasts, feeling that high finally settle. That tingling sensation melted into putty as his lips captured hers once again. Lovemaking in a barn, Cynthia thought, feeling giddy inside. How taboo, how _naughty_ and _forbidden_ it all felt. Feeling overwhelmed by that taboo, she grabbed the waistline of his breeches and yanked them down, giggling as his erection sprang free.

"Oh my..." She stifled a giggle, comparing his erect penis to a jack-in-the-box. Inigo, on the other hand, was boiling over in embarrassment once more, stuttering.

"C-Cynthia...Gods help me, w-why are you _looking_ at it like that!?" Inigo stuttered, burying his face into her shoulder in shame - and unbeknownst to him, his erection, velvet unyielding, rubbed on her belly.

"Ah!"

A quiver of pleasure racked Inigo's body as the soft skin of his genitals brushed against her core. She lay still, in a trance, half yearning, half nervous. He could see her slight tremors, and Inigo, ever chivalrous, embraced her. Holding your partner in assurance was said to keep anxiety at bay; at least that was what that peculiar noble Virion had told him and the other boys. It was kind of like giving a smile to a sad stranger, but far more explicit. It was working, as her nervousness began to ebb away.

Her arms embraced his neck. Glistening pupils and a tiny nod gave him approval - he was to be the one to take her maidenhead away, and there were no others she would give the honor to.

"Cynthia...are you sure...?"

She nodded once more. She opened her legs and lifted her hips - the books often explained that proper lovemaking was done this way, after all.

"W-Well..." He spoke to himself nervously, in a hushed tone. "Here goes..."

He took hold of one of her legs and spread her sex as much as it could spread, and he grasped his erect member and awkwardly bought it to her entrance. She grasped it, feeling herself grow hotter at its velvety texture, and helped in guiding the head inside.

She gasped and choked - pain was to be expected according to the books, but she didn't fathom all of this unbearable _stretching_ and _pushing._

"Nnh!"

She gasped as his penis pushed itself inside of her, breaking her maidenhead apart and burrowing most of its way through until she could no longer bear it. She wouldn't have been surprised if a small smatter of blood had seeped its way onto her jumper.

She was grasping him firmly, pulling him downward, needing more of the love he was exuding. He could feel how deep her breaths were and was stuck in a rut of guilt.

"It hurts, doesn't it...?" He asked, a pained smile etched on his face. "I can stop if it - "

She kissed him in a fit of passion. Her soft lips sunk into his drier ones, and he closed his eyes and gave in. They split apart and he propped himself up on his elbows, his gaze never leaving hers. She could see that he was as nervous as she was, afraid to bring her pain.

"J-Just go slowly..." She sighed; she felt her genitals tightening in some pleasure she never felt before, albeit laced with that same stretching pain. "It's supposed t-to hurt the first time..."

"Okay..."

Going slowly...he knew in his heart that it would help her ease her way into this, that it would help her get her fill, but the sheer _tightness_ of her insides coiled around his penis like a vice. It felt nothing short of _amazing,_ and he felt himself near the edge from the heat alone.

_"Oh wow, this is...oh wow, oh wow..."_

His hips began to move. He slowly thrust back, and pushed in again, his eyes all aglow at the sight. The slick, obscene sound his member made nearly made him burst.

"Ahh..."

She moaned and flushed, giving him yet another nod of approval. He slid to and fro, gently, once more, gauging her moans. Her insides were softer than feathers and unbearably hot, and tighter than a coil, and the rest of her body was pert and flushing and showing signs of sweat, drowning in this first go at pleasure - even if it was awkward - and it just felt _so_ nice as he picked up the pace a little, and her moans were _so_ sexy, and if _this_ is what sex felt like, why the hell didn't he have it sooner!?

His answer lied in Cynthia's presence.

Even as he lost himself in a white void of pleasure, he realized, _"Just what if I did happen to have my first time with some stranger...?"_ He wouldn't have won Cynthia's love, that was for sure. And sex was nothing to trifle with. There would likely be some hollow, empty feeling when the act ended. Who knew how the stranger would have reacted? She could have robbed him blind. As he lost himself in the lurid noise of skin slapping skin, he knew that this girl was the right one to lose it to.

"C-Cynthia..."

He threw her arms up and pinned them down, reaching for another kiss. He thrust faster than before, and she cried incoherently, muting herself by biting her lip.

"Inigo...!"

"Cynthia, I'm about to - "

He felt himself tipping over the edge, forcing himself downward. The first spurt happened far too quickly, and he softly grunted, flushing from both the high of his orgasm and potent embarrassment. Even then, Cynthia felt satisfied - no stars bursting in her line of vision, but she felt a lulling, tingling sensation that satisfied her as he felt his seed land within her. Inigo fell on top of her, gently stroking her back, embarrassed highly.

"Oh good God, I'm so sorry Cynthia..." He moaned, shaking his head. "I barely lasted five minutes..."  

Cynthia couldn't help herself and giggled. "I'd be silly to believe that all first times are like the sweeping romance novels, Inigo. I'm quite happy, you know." Her eyes fluttered as the flush that appeared on her body began to disappear. "I wouldn't have had it any other way."

Inigo sighed, relieved. "Glad to hear that. I promise you, next time's gonna be different."

"Heehee!"

He gently slid his member out of her and propped himself on his side on the bed of hay, not bothering to cover himself. He smiled as she turned over to face him, pulling her skirt back down - but, to his delight, not covering her breasts.

"Hey, you aren't in pain anymore," Cynthia noted with a grin. "You don't think that doing me healed you, did it?"

 _"That'd_ be a riot if it were true," said Inigo, grinning back at her.

"Maybe that so-called _Karma Sutra_ was on to something!" She giggled again, as did he.

Cynthia wormed her way onto Inigo's chest, and he gently embraced her as he laid on his back. He could see her smiling contentedly, and he returned that smile by gently kissing her forehead. The moon had risen to its highest peak, with its silvery beams serving as the barn's only source of light. As it was small and well off of the palace's beaten path, it had fallen into disuse. While some farming supplies and tools for smithing were stored around them, they, too, showed signs of abandonment. Coupled with the fact that they weren't marching for days, Cynthia and Inigo felt content to lay in the hay. Dewey, chilly remnants of raindrops glimmered like silver on the two small windows that were on both sides of the door. A faint, rolling breeze echoed in their ears, accentuated with a gentle melody sung by the crickets.

"Hey, Inigo..." Cynthia began.

"Hmm...?"

"Were you spooked at just how _quiet_ nighttime can get in this time?" She said quietly, her face contorted in a mixture of wonder and sadness. "Like, I remember crickets back in our time, but half the time there'd be a storm, or fire, or...well, you know..." A ghost of a tear threatened to fall. "...Screams...?"

Inigo grimaced. It bought him back to the night that he landed in the current time - to add to the terror of being alone and drowning in silence, he landed in _Valm,_ and not in Ylisse like he had hoped. He made a living for the two years between the Three Month War with Plegia and the campaign in Valm as an earnest, reputable merc. Smiles and flowers he seemed to others, but on the inside he had been hurting, often going for days on end without sleep. The Great Gate - a massive structure said to have been around during the era of the Kingdoms of Rigel and Zofia, which were, as Inigo learned, the two kingdoms that would eventually unite and be renamed Valm - had served as a personal home base for him. It was far northeast of the continent. He had been stuck alone there, stranded by tight finances, by a lack of direction, and by the time the Three Month War had ended, there had been a continent-wide ban on travel, with illegal, often shady means of transport being the only way out.

He cried his eyes out the first night. The silence heightened his paranoia, but as time went on, he found himself smitten with it. He had always yearned to know what a peaceful night was like back in the future. But what's the point in enjoying something so beautiful if one enjoyed it alone?

"...Yeah," He said with an audible gulp. "Yeah. I got spooked. But I liked it after a while." He embraced her a little bit tighter, brushing his lips on top of her head. Idly, he found himself pulling out her ponytail and brushing the curly strands in his fingers. "I was more afraid of the fact that I was alone...all those quiet nights, they were a cold comfort..."

"You wanted to see Olivia...and Prince Chrom..."

 He sighed. When Father had finally found him, it felt like a blow to the gut. Their grievances had been put aside and understandings were reached, but only Chrom himself was oblivious to the fact that he clearly favored his daughter over his son. His breath hitched.

"Yeah, I wanted to see Mother and Father..." He smiled weakly. "Well, I can assure you that I enjoyed _one_ half of that equation...I swear, no matter what I do or say, Father looks at me like I'm a nuisance." He grunted. "Is it terrible of me to say that I regret meeting him, even if it's only a little bit...?"

"In hindsight," said Cynthia, forcing back a sob - both of them, scorned by their fathers. It bought them together, yet it hurt like hell. "Most people would probably tell us it's normal." The tears began to fall. "My father - Rufure, you know, the tactician, he...I wanted to meet him for _so long,_ and yet he's..."

"...Very, very cold. I wish I had seen it sooner, Cynthia," said Inigo. "He wasn't the friendliest when I spoke to him myself. I assumed he was just standoffish, but after Morgan showed up..." He sighed. "Yes, I _really_ ought to have seen it sooner..."

Cynthia huffed. "Well, you can take to heart that you knew what the prince looked like..."

She bit her lip, forcing down another sob. She felt his arms gripping themselves on her tighter, yet it didn't dissuade the tide of sadness she felt.

"Please, Cynthia. Don't cry. What happened with that bandit is done and done.  Why, why now that I think about it, you really never _did_ quite meet - "

"It's still inexcusable," she interjected, body quivering. “And that’s not even considering the threats that bandit gave me…”

She could sense, feel his eyes bug out. “Cynthia…?”

“H-He didn’t, well…you know…” She flushed. _That_ was obvious, given what they had just done. “B-But that bandit, he, um…there was one time where I tripped and broke something, and basically, he said, um…” She cringed. “He threatened me…”

“With a sexual favor, no doubt?” Inigo spat harshly, his hand tightening on Cynthia’s head.

“He wanted me to strip for him if I tripped again.” She said it in the curtest voice she could muster. “And I didn’t. It wasn’t like the threat of getting slaughtered by the Risen, Inigo. It was different. It felt just as scary, and so did being alone on that tiny island for so long…”

He gave her the most tender of kisses, planting it gently on her forehead. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Cynthia. It must have been terrible. Now you’re making me think what if that damned bandit wanted to do _more_ than just make you strip for him!?”

 “I know, Inigo…but…”

 She snuggled up to him, grinning. “We’re here now. We’re all together again, and we’ve met our parents in their prime. There’s still time to get to know them – and we’re setting things right, too. I feel much better now, I can tell you that.”

 A stray robin perched itself on one of the windowsills, chirping and bouncing.

“And we get to experience moments like these now. Kjelle and Gerome were wrong. It was right to come back here. And these nights don’t seem so scary anymore!”

 “You’re right…” He gave her another kiss, this time on the cheek. “Why, I bet if we never came here, I would’ve never realized how much you mean to me…”

 “Inigo…”

 She sighed, letting sleep overwhelm her in its gentle embrace. “You make me happy…”

 Inigo, too, was sleepy, but felt lighter than air and wanted to bounce when she said those words. He contentedly sighed and joined her in sleep, feeling warm and protected by both the girl in his arms and the serene silence that held them. He brushed off some hay that had clung to her shoulder and inhaled that warm, jasmine-laced scent she emitted. He prayed to Naga in mere seconds of weakness for time to stop, to keep this serenity lasting forever.

 If Naga heard his plea, then causing his loins to go erect once more must’ve been for her amusement…

 Cynthia squeaked in surprise, feeling his penis stiffen against her thigh. She let out a giggle and blushed.

 “Oh no…” He stuttered, embarrassment overwhelming him once more. “You’ve…” He quietly inhaled on her neck, aroused by the scent. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me…”

 “Feeling horny now, are we?” Cynthia asked with a chuckle, her eyes all aglow. “Am I really that sexy? Heehee.”

 He smiled in turn, but soon after his face contorted into a soft frown. Her scent, her smile, her body, all made him ravenous for her. In tandem with the silent, peaceful night, he wanted her too. He was still fighting off some embarrassment, mostly pertaining to his trigger-happy erection, but he was filled with a lust that was softened with love. And given that he came in five minutes before, he wanted her to writhe in pleasure this time around.

 “Cynthia…are you…um…do you want to go again…?”

 She quietly gasped, her breath jittery in nervousness and arousal. He took her face in his hands and pulled her to him, placing a tender kiss upon her lips. She could hear his pants as he slid his tongue in her mouth, and she was enamored. Her womanhood flared in anticipation, and she grasped his manhood and stroked it – the heat alone made her crave it. As her arousal grew, she realized she wasn’t all that tired anymore.  

 “I’ll make you see stars this time, Cynthia.”

 With that, he turned her over, back on the hay, and passionately kissed her lips, their mouths tingling and hearts pounding wildly. He wanted her more than ever, grasping the strings of her jumper’s corset and pulling them apart, forcing the offending garment to fall off; next came her jumper, and finally her top. He gazed upon her nude body, dotted with scars from past and present battles – one large, star-shaped scar from their days in the future past lingered on her left rib. He bestowed kisses upon kisses between the scar and her breasts, teeth catching nipples, making her cry out in pleasure.

 “I-Inigo – “

 Using both hands, he forced her legs open. His lips slid down her silky skin, gliding all over scar tissue and flesh until it finally reached the curls that graced her womanhood. He flushed, feeling a twinge of hesitation – if only out of fear of not pleasing her enough – and lapped his tongue all over her aroused nether lips, circling and tracing the pearl that sat on top. Her hips jerked and trembled, smothering his mouth with a wetness that made him high.

 “Aah!”

 She forced her arm over her mouth to mute her soft squeals of delight. A small scream broke through her arm when Inigo’s tongue slithered inside of her, and Inigo couldn’t help but feel proud. She grabbed his head and forced him closer, slowly grinding her hips onto his face.

 “Ah-hahh…don’t stop…please don’t stop…”

 And he complied, circling his tongue around the lips in a frenzy. The scent of her womanhood made him yearn to be inside her even more than before, but he wanted her to have her fill first. She didn’t just yell, but _squeak_ when he lapped at the pearl on top of the lips, and his rapid flickering caused soPmething to spurt into his mouth, with the girl letting out one last pleasured yelp.

 “Ahh…”

She was already quivering, her body flushing with lust. Inigo chuckled with pride and grinned, puffing his chest. “I’ve only used my mouth and you’re already a mess…you naughty girl, you. Why, I ought to punish you!”

His low tenor made her shiver. Mustering as much strength as she could, she forced herself up and pushed him back, eyes glowing with desire. With a chuckle she pressed her nude form all up against him and latched her hands onto his shirt. “It’s not fair! You don’t get to punish me if _you’re_ still wearing your shirt!” She then tore the thing off with one tug, and the embarrassed moan Inigo let out probably echoed throughout the woods. She chuckles and devours his muscular form with her mouth, greedily nipping him on the chest, on his lovingly built stomach, all the way down to the _pelvis –_

 “Wh-Wh-Wha – “

 “Aww, what happened to _punishing me,_ Inigo?” Cynthia chuckled playfully. “You’re under _my_ control now.”

 And under he was. With a mixture of power and curiosity, her right hand wrapped around his dick and took a few tentative shakes before stroking it in full. This was absolutely _nothing_ like those nights he’d “grapple with something” (As Owain tenderly put it), yet he still pleaded with her silently: _“Why are you down there and not up here?”_

His query got answered when she wrapped her lips around his cock and _sucked._

His first moan was easily surpassed by the squeaking noise he made when she started to suck, and no doubt the whole damn palace heard him now. He was flushed and panting at the sight of her mouth stretched around his penis, and even with her lack of finesse she drove him _insane_ with pleasure.

 As for Cynthia, she liked it. The smell of it was strange and the taste peculiar, but they _were_ his genitals. But hearing Inigo cry out and beg for more made it all worth it, and she felt her nether-lips growing ever wetter at his aroused pants.

 Her lips made an audible _pop_ as she released her mouth from his penis, giving it a rest. She then looked up at him, drunk on her lust, and said, “Please punish me, Inigo. Please, talk dirty to me…”

 A wild look came to Inigo’s face as he sat himself up and grabbed the back of her head. “You…y-you dirty girl. Y-You like sucking my cock, don’t you…?”

 Saying it was embarrassing as all hell, but he nearly came from her pleading look alone. “You’re, you’re a lady of legends – ah! – wh-who’s saved all mankind, worthy of t-the finest songs a bard can sing, yet here you – ah… - yet here you are, sucking cock like some common whore…” He broke character and yelped amidst the lovingly lavish licks and pecks Cynthia left on his penis. Her enjoyment was plain to see, as she obscenely wrapped her entire mouth around the thing and _shoved_ it down her throat.

 “Oh, oh God help me…”

 Inigo threw his head back and trembled, whimpering as her free hand traced over a ragged line of a scar that curved across his right hip – a souvenir he got from the future when he, Owain, Brady and Yarne somehow got across a rickety bridge without falling down the massive chasm below it. They escaped with their lives, but he and Owain still endured a few blows from the Grimleal fanatic that lead the Risen that were pursuing them. The dull pain that lingered within him was replaced with a fantastic heat that pooled between his legs, and it spiked into flames when she shoved his penis as deep in her throat as she could muster.

“Oh, oh no, oh Cynthia, I’m gonna come-!”

The heat felt like a firework that burst, and he felt himself spilling in her mouth with a whine and a groan. His hips thrust up sharply and he tugs her hair, forcing the length down her throat. The heat of her mouth prolongs the orgasm for him, and she takes it all in wantonly. Had she not started to violently cough, he’d have kept dancing in the orgasmic aftermath.

“H-Hey!” He pulled her off of him and she choked, having a coughing fit. The semen’s burn made tears well up in her eyes. “Are you okay!? I’m so sorry, Cynthia…”

He reached for his discarded shirt and wiped the small streak of semen (which was one of the most enticing things he had seen) from her lip. He rubbed her back as her coughs subsided, and she couldn’t help but sniffle.

“Do you need water, Cynthia?”

“No, I’m okay now…hah…”

Inigo’s face was a light like a tulip. “I didn’t mean to do that, seriously, I just…” He sighed, embarrassed. “I, you, I mean, it just felt so _good_ and you looked _so_ erotic and I just – I just – ugh…” He sighed, covering his face in shame, and Cynthia chuckling like some airheaded farm girl did _not_ help.

 “If there were a way to preserve and repeat that squeaky noise you made when I started sucking you off…” Cynthia let out a raspy sigh, licking her lips. “…I _definitely_ would have done that.”

 She let out a soft whimper and writhed, with the engorging heat between her legs becoming unbearable. On her lips, with what little remnants of come remained on them, she tasted something that reminded her of salt and bitter mead. “And besides, you talking dirty like that was fun…”

 “Seriously, to think that _you_ of all people would be the biggest pervert among us.” Inigo sighed, half-smiling. “I’m still reeling in shock.”

“You don’t think that’s weird, do you…?” She asked softly, worrisome.

“Don’t be silly, Cynthia.”

In response he moved to embrace her and placed a soft hand upon her cheek, and she leaned into him. He smelled of currant berries – sweet, hardy berries that made the finest jams and cordials that their new life could offer. It made her feel loved and ravenous, and a blaze of lust that she had never truly felt heated her body like a flame. In their mutual nudity, they found desire. Inigo’s lips found their way toward Cynthia’s, brushing them with the lightest of force. He then kissed her cheek, her jawline, and her neck, taking the time to nip into the skin. She fell backward onto their bed of hay and opened her legs, trapping him within their hold. In their heated embrace, their tongues curled and slithered against one another, and Cynthia’s grandiosity and ham-handedness were replaced with quivers and whimpers and a small gasp as Inigo’s fingers found their way toward the clitoris once more. Her back arched and her legs’ grip slipped, and his lips slid down to her thigh, biting and leaving a purplish mark in its wake.

“Besides…I could just leave you here and let you writhe,” said Inigo, letting the finger that was touching her linger on his lips. His voice was honeyed and sensual. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“F-Fine, go then,” Cynthia barked with a blush. “I’d love to see what your dad would do when he sees his son strutting around naked with a big fat boner.   Last time I checked, you were a _prince.”_

Inigo laughs, feeling himself grow harder and harder. “He’d be singing praises of my member and demand I sire heirs at once…or something.” He pressed a kiss on Cynthia’s stomach. “And _you_ would be the lady he’d want me to sire with.”

 “A-And you call _me_ a pervert…”

As their teasing banter ended, silence fell between them. He lifted one of her legs, and with her nod, he guided himself to her womanhood once more, slowly pushing himself inside. She huffed and moaned – the sensation was odd still, but far less painful this time. Her chest constricted as he gently thrust, and they were slow and flawless and _hot._ He cast his gaze upon her face and met her eyes, and the thrall of love overwhelmed them both.

Cynthia’s neck craned to the side as his thrusts picked up their pace. Her pants grew rugged yet she moaned softly still, growing less and less coherent as the thick length inside of her _thumped_ and _thumped._ She helplessly moaned as he began bucking in and out of her powerless body.

Heat blazed through her skin. A tight sensation seized her lower abdomen, too much for her to handle yet in his current state, his lovemaking just _wasn’t enough._  She taps his shoulder and motions that she wants to move, and he nods and plants butterfly kisses on her. She plants herself on all fours like an animal and spreads herself wide, no longer yearning for love, but for something far more carnal.

She fell forward and his penis relentlessly fucking her made her head spin – breathless vertigo seized her and she felt like she was flying. All of her body went numb as every ounce of heat and awareness pooled itself squarely between her legs, and her body shook every time the flesh pounding her writhed. Her hips bucked back at him, and she gasps as he arches his back and digs deeper, pulling out completely before slamming back in again. She trembles and pants, futilely grasping at the hay and burying her face down, for even she could tell that her face was boiling red and ridiculous to look at.

Deft fingers shoot for the pearl that’s engorged and prominent, and Inigo toys with it and sparks her orgasm anew. Cynthia whines and stutters his name and demands more and _more_ as his hips loudly smack against her rear.

“Mnh…more…”

She could hardly breathe as he, in a moment of curiosity, gave one of her nipples a pinch and her bottom a heavy _smack._ Something akin to a cry and a moan escapes Cynthia’s lips, and it was _easily_ one of the most _amazing_ things she’s ever felt. Touching herself with her own fingers couldn’t even compare at this point, and as if to emphasize that fact, his cock twitches and he softly moans.

“Nnh!”

He let out a choke and gripped her hips, dotting her porcelain skin with bruises. The harshness of it all made her clench around him, and it took all his willpower not to come right there. The thrill of those marks, with her uniform allowing only the slightest of her skin to show them off, aroused her to the point that essence dripped down to her legs. Her eyes began to roll, and the sight of her hapless state made Inigo groan softly.

“I want _you_ to dance for me, Cynthia,” he said breathlessly as he jerked her backwards. He landed on his back and turned her around, lifting her up with ease.

“Huh – “

As easily as he lifted her, he faced her towards him and she _plunged,_ ass and thighs smacking against his. She screamed with joy and felt that spot of hers go numb once more, feeling far _fuller_ than before.

She remembered how to breathe and drew a ragged breath, but her mind had succumbed to love and lust. As a reminder, Inigo began pumping from underneath, smiling like an idiot and his own mind drowning like hers.

“I _said_ I want _you_ to dance for _me_ ,” Inigo growls, and he asserts himself by giving her left breast a tight squeeze.

“Nnh, no, I can’t – “

He thrust his cock deep, _deep_ inside her _,_ and a massive jolt shot up her spine, forcing her eyes to roll back. He felt huge, _thick,_ as if he were going to _tear her apart._

She wanted it, and _badly._

When his dick twists around inside of her, Cynthia slowly began to bounce. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched his thighs, marking him for herself. It thrust in, and out, and back _in_ and she could feel every inch of it hitting that dime-sized spot, the spot that made her breathless and put her in a tizzy.

She tightens around him like a coil, trembles, flushes, and moves her hips as much as she could muster. She _loves_ it and doesn’t want to stop, not now, not ever.

She loves riding him, being pounded with wild abandon, but more that that, she loves _him._

Oh, how she loved this boy - this _man –_ and she could feel his love in return as he gently pulled her down for a kiss.

“I-Inigo…” She stammered, whimpering in ecstasy. She lifted her hips higher, slamming herself back down with more force than before. “Inigo…!”

“Fall back,” Inigo gasped, and fell she did. He pulled her right leg up over his shoulder and pumped with force, grinding on the clitoris and rubbing that spot relentlessly. The burn forced the air out of her lungs and visages of stars peeked through her line of vision. It didn’t take long for her to come, and she cried out and bit him in the neck, forcing all of her love in that one act.

“Cynthia…!”

His cry was weak yet potent and his thrusts became twitchy and erratic, and she could sense that he was at his limit. Helpless, she began to go limp as he planted another kiss on her lips. Even in her state, his pulsating cock spilling essence inside of her made her shiver, and she cried out softly.

“Inigo, I…”

Both were dripping with sweat as Inigo pulled out his penis and near-collapsed on top of her. She felt warm as he embraced her and pulled her on the bed of hay, with the veil of sleep hanging over them.

“I,” Inigo breathed. He planted the most tender of kisses on her cheek and smiled, his face alight with happiness. “I…love you…”

“Mmnh?”

“I love you, Cynthia, and I mean it,” Inigo said firmly but softly, pulling a blanket over them. “I want us to be together…”

“Ah..."

Their newfound bliss was welcomed. Their discussion of it would have to wait, however, for they fell asleep, happy and adrift in dreams that they had never had, especially after spending a good portion of their lifetime living in fear...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consensual lovemaking is best lovemaking, ladies and gents.
> 
> This is gonna be an ongoing (and weird, just as a warning) story. Critiques are always welcome.


End file.
